


A lifetime of possibility

by PyrophobicDragon



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-09-24 20:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrophobicDragon/pseuds/PyrophobicDragon
Summary: This is where I put all of my short, headcanon-y one-shots that I deem not enough for an actual fic. Check chapter notes for individual tags and ratings. Marked as complete because it's not uncomplete, but it will be updated periodically.





	1. Pocket Watch

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for nudity and references to sex. No warnings, except for excessive fluff.

Curran entered the small room that he and several of the other Church affiliated members frequented. Living in a castle filled with all sorts, people quickly began to gravitate towards like-minded people and form small friendship groups. Curran, for example, often hung out with the Church folks and drank with the other axe wielders. 

Estelle spotted him when he entered the room. She rose from her side of the checkerboard and said, “Ah, Curran. Tea?”

“No thanks,” Curran replied, waving the half-full mug he was already carrying at her. “I will take a top-up, if you’ve got any hot water left.”

She took his mug from him and refilled it with hot water from the iron kettle hanging over the fireplace. There weren’t many people here--Alex was sitting on the windowsill, looking out onto the grounds; Hope was reading; and Ricardt was drinking some tea on the other side of the checkerboard.

Curran took a seat at the table and took off his belt, dumping it out on the table. He’d had a chaotic past few days, which inevitably meant that the items on his belt ended up migrating between the different pockets, and if he didn’t take the time to re-organize he wouldn’t be able to find anything when he needed it. And if he couldn’t take out a halo or a pair of handcuffs when he needed them, that could spell disaster for an investigation.

He started, as he always did, by unclipping everything he kept in his belt and emptying the pouches, spreading all of his things on the table. The first thing he noticed was that his cuffs were missing--which probably meant they were in his room, still attached to the headboard. He tried to prevent his mind from going down that rabbit hole, especially with Estelle sitting right there. She could probably hear his impure thoughts from a mile away.

“You sure do have a lot of things, Inquisitor Curran,” Hope commented.

“Batter to have, and not breed, than to breed, and not have.”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you were trying to say, that was definitely not it,” Alex said from her perch on the windowsill.

“Dammit,” Curran sighed, and ducked Estelle’s Loving Hand thrown at his head.

Hope’s eyes roved around the table, looking at all the things Curran kept on him, including, among other things, emergency rupies, a very standard-issue halo, and a flint and tinder. His eyes lingered on the handsome pocket knife Curran’s uncle gave him after he finished his apprenticeship, and Curran took a moment to hope that none of his friends will ask about his missing handcuffs. There was no way he’d be able to lie about where he put them without blushing.

And then Hope reached out and grabbed the pocket watch. “Oh, wow, this is a nice watch,” he said, with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Curran could feel the heat rising up his neck. “Yeah, uh, Hein got me that. It was expensive as fuck.”

Hope had already popped the watch open. It was the sort of expensive watch that did its best to look not-expensive. It was made of brass, with a simple design etched onto the front, with multiple dials that not only showed the time of day but also the month, day, and the position of the moon. But Curran’s favorite part, the part that Hope was currently smiling indulgently at, was the fact that the lid functioned as a locket, and it currently held a tiny painting of Heinwald behind a thin piece of glass. His head was cocked to one side, he was smiling gently at the viewer, and framing the photo were words, delicately carved into the metal:  _ think of me fondly. _

The others in the room had all gathered around to look at the watch. “That’s very romantic,” said Estelle. If Curran didn’t know better, he would’ve thought she sounded jealous.

“It’s embarrassingly romantic,” Curran grumbled. But he was glad for an excuse for why he was blushing so much. “Uh, can I have that back?”

“Sorry!” Hope said, and shut the watch and gave it back to him. Curran turned it over in his hands, resisting the urge to press the cold metal to his face to try and cool off his blush. Honestly speaking, he wasn’t blushing due to the romantic tone of the gift. He was blushing because the nice pocket watch had a risque secret.

The back cover also lifted up. And it also contained a picture of Heinwald. But he was much less clothed in that one.

There was an impressive amount of detail in that tiny picture, so much so that he had half-jokingly threatened to track down the painter and throttle them for creating such an accurate nude. The very talented artist had painted Heinwald sprawled on his side, but twisted at the waist, so the viewer (Curran) could see both the smooth curve of his bare ass and the fucked-out look on his face, including a perfectly rendition of the high blush on his cheeks and the glazed over his eyes that always appeared after sex.

And he was back to the impure thoughts. At least the Loving Hand was all the way across the room at this point. And Estelle has not actually developed mind reading capabilities. Yet.

Around this time, the door opened. He shot a brief glance over, expecting Hildegarde or maybe Ryozen, but to his surprise Heinwald had entered the room. He came over to Curran and pulled the missing cuffs out of his pocket, dangling them by his thumb and forefinger in front of his face. "Hello, Curran. I've simply come to deliver these to you. I imagine you were looking for them?"

Well, it was a good thing he was already pretty red. He surprised himself with how steady his voice was when he replied, "I knew where they were, but you saved me a trip. Thanks, babe." 

"Mm. You're welcome." Heinwald leaned down for a quick kiss, which Curran happily obliged. When they broke apart, he reached out for his hands and did a quick check-up on the bruises on his wrists. Heinwald had accidentally tugged hard on the cuffs when he jerked in the throes of pleasure, and consequently had a small pair of small bruises on his wrists.

"Stop fussing, it's been all of half a day, they're not going anywhere that fast," Heinwald scolded.

Curran pointed out, "They've already yellowed, and you can barely see the one on your purple hand."

"I...may have cheated a bit," Heinwald confessed sheepishly. Then he cast a glance downwards and noticed the watch in Curran’s free hand. A wide grin spread across his face. “Ah, the watch I gave you. Has it been...useful?”

He was not going to rise to his bait. Not when the others were right there. “It’s nice, yeah. Hope was looking at it earlier.” He didn’t know why he was bothering trying to remind him that there were other people in the room. Heinwald didn’t give a damn.

“That’s a bit forward of him,” Heinwald muttered under his breath, and Curran couldn’t help but snort.

“Anyways, thanks for the delivery. Don’t you have something to be doing?”

“I have many things I want to be doing, but nothing that I have to be doing,” Heinwald said.

“So you’re going to stay here and bother me?”

Heinwald leaned further over him. He seemed to be enjoying being taller than Curran for once. “Well, I was hoping you’d come with me to find a new case.”

“Oh, I see. ‘Course you weren’t bringing me the cuffs out of the goodness of your heart. You’re just bored.” Curran rolled his eyes then gestured over to the table. “Well, I’m a bit busy at the moment, but give me five and I’ll come find you.”

“Agreeable.” Heinwald leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, over the scar. Before he could leave, Curran quickly pulled his hands up and pressed one kiss then another to his palms before releasing him. 

“All right, then. Fuck off,” he said cheerfully.

Heinwald laughed and left. As soon as he was gone, Curran looked over at the other four. Alex was staring at them with undisguised jealousy, but she quickly looked out the window when he glanced over at her. Estelle and Ricardt were both staring intently at the chessboard, but as far as he could see neither of them had made a move since Heinwald entered the room. Hope was the only one who was grinning, unabashed. “You two are a cute couple!” he said cheerfully.

“Th-thanks?” Curran really wasn’t sure how to react to that compliment. He quickly began to put things into their proper pouches, hoping to get out of here fast before Heinwald got  _ truly _ bored and started setting things on fire again.

“It’s always fun seeing the two of you being lovey-dovey,” Hope continued. Curran still wasn’t sure how to react, so he elected to grunt noncommittally. 

He had almost finished packing when a quiet voice interrupted him.

“What’s it like?”

Curran paused. He slowly raised his head up to look at Alex. She was still looking out the window, but he could see her eyes on him in the reflection. “What’s what like? Being in love? Or being in a relationship?” He let the question linger, and he said gently, “Because you know the answer to the first question.” Alex flinched.

He’s seen the way she looked at Elisanne. He didn’t think many people did, but hey, he was an inquisitor and a part-time investigator. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hope looking confused, with a question floundering on his lips, and both Estelle and Ricardt were, again, trying not to stare.

Alex leaned her head against the window and muttered, “I don’t know if I do.”

“Trust me, you do,” Curran insisted. “If you’re asking yourself that question, then you do.”

She said nothing.

Curran sighed and put on his belt. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and said, “Relationships are different for everyone. And I especially don’t think my...involvement...with Heinwald is anywhere near what you’ll experience when you get a partner. So if you’re looking for advice, or a sorta heads-up on what to expect, I’m the last person you should be asking.” He let that sink in a little bit then continued. “But for me personally? It’s pretty fucking great.”

With that over and done, he got up from the table and headed for the door. “See you all later.”

As he stepped out into the hallway, he remembered his promise to Heinwald that he’d be there in five minutes. He checked his watch and cringed. It’s been seven, which meant that Heinwald would be all cute and pouty by the time he found him.

But before he set off, he took a moment to smile down at the small image of him in his pocket watch. Then he shut it and jogged off to find the real deal.


	2. Narwhal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heinwald drops by Curran's room for a nice nightcap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G.

The sound of three dull thumps on the door made Curran look up from his book. He tucked the bookmark inside and shoved it under his pillow and went to answer the door.

Heinwald was there, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. He waggled his elbow at him and asked, “Care for a drink?”

“Sure. Come on in.” He stepped aside, holding open the door, so Heinwald could enter his room. He sat down on the bed and set the bottle and glasses down on the bedside table, then glanced around the room.

“Looking for the corkscrew? It’s where it’s always been.” As he spoke, Curran walked over and opened up the bedside drawer, fishing out a corkscrew from the mess of miscellaneous items he kept in there.

Heinwald sighed heavily as he took it from him. “Ah...my apologies. I’m afraid I’m not in my right mind today. I was helping Miss Sinoa with her experiments earlier, and I’m still a bit...dazed.”

Curran took a seat at his side and took back the bottle and corkscrew. “Should you really be drinking right now, then?” he asked even as he opened the bottle.

Heinwald shook his head. “I’m physically fine.”

“Well, I’ll take your word for it,” Curran said doubtfully. He poured a glass for both of them and picked his up by the bowl. Heinwald mirrored him and motioned with his glass in thanks before taking an alarmingly large gulp that startled him into a laugh. “Slow down there, tiger. Long day?”

“Did you already forget that I was in lab with Miss Sinoa today?” Heinwald accepted a refill eagerly and Curran laughed again.

“Yeah, forget about past traumas and insomnia, what truly drives you to drink is stressful lab partners!”

They drank and chatted--well, Heinwald mostly drank and Curran mostly talked. Despite attempts to press him for more information about what exactly he and Sinoa were working on that day, Heinwald was pretty tight-lipped about it, so Curran had to take on the bulk of the talking.

He paused partway through a story about looking for his cat and finding out that it had betrayed him to hang out with Mikoto when he noticed Heinwald was nodding off. Specifically, he was nodding off with his head on his shoulder...and one hand on Curran’s thigh to stabilize himself. Curran swallowed heavily and shrugged his shoulder. “Hey. Have you been listening?”

“Mmm?” Heinwald opened his eyes and lifted his head. Despite his apparently awareness, his hand only crept further up Curran’s thigh.

Curran took the glass from Heinwald’s hand before he could spill it all over the two of them and the bed. He leaned over Heinwald to set the glass down on the bedside table along with his own, hearing Heinwald inhale sharply as he leaned into his personal space.

When he sat back up, Heinwald’s hand was no longer on his thigh. Instead, it was toying with the hem of his shirt. There was something unreadable in his gaze as he searched Curran’s face for whatever it was he was looking for.

Curran sighed.

Then he said, “I know you’re not Heinwald.”

Not-Heinwald’s eyes went wide.

“I’ve known it wasn’t him the second you stepped in the room. I just thought I’d let you continue so I could figure out your game,” he continued dispassionately. “But trying to seduce me while you look like him? That’s pretty fucked up.”

Well, he was fibbing just a little bit. It was really the corkscrew that tipped him off. The excuse that he was a bit dazed after lab was a good one, as it had happened before, but then he had taken the corkscrew from Curran instead of handing the bottle to him when they both knew that Heinwald was utterly incapable of opening wine bottles without doing terrible things to the cork. And then Curran himself had engineered a final test: while Heinwald did not care much for social niceties, certain lessons were beaten into his head as a child and led to certain quirks. For example, he never picked a wine glass up by the bowl.

Not-Heinwald stared at him for a long time. Then he laughed, mouth going wider than he’s ever seen Heinwald’s mouth go. Curran waited patiently for him to finish laughing, and when he did, he grinned a grin full of sharp teeth. “You are no fool.”

“I know we always say that he’s the brains and I’m the brawn, but people forget that I operated with a perfect record for years before I met him,” Curran replied, still as cool as a cucumber. But then he narrowed his eyes and let his voice turn icy. “Let me tell you, if you hurt Heinwald to get him out of the way for whatever it is you’re trying, I will break every bone in your body.”

“We are no adversary of yours. To agonize our confederate is diametric to our purpose.”

His eyes widened. The feeling of having a thesaurus thrown at him was way too familiar. “...Nyarl? What the hell? Since when could you shapeshift into people?”

“Apologies.” Nyarl-Heinwald (Nyarlwald?) was shrinking backward. He recognized this as a human form of something that the dragons did--a cowering sort of bow, making themselves smaller and closer to the ground, as a bodily expression of contrite.

Curran was honestly much more relaxed now that he knew that it was Nyarl. It helped that it did not appear to have ill intentions and it was quick to confess that it was itself when caught. He sighed again and asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance, “Can you just tell me why the hell you decided to take on Hein’s form and try to get your hands up my shirt?”

“An attempt at revelation. An anodyne for another.”

Curran shut his eyes and ran his hands over his face. “Okay. I have no idea what you’re attempting to say. I really need to get Heinwald in here.”

“NO!” The shout echoed through the room, reverberating in the way Nyarl’s true voice did. It was...terrifying, coming out of an almost-Heinwald mouth, simultaneously teeth-filled and alien yet familiar. Reminded him of the way Lathna looked and sounded when they finally figured out she was actually the other Nyarlathotep.

“N-no!?”

“He must cognize neither our presence nor our purpose,” Nyarlwald hissed, using Heinwald’s normal voice again. It was only marginally less scary.

“You...don’t want Heinwald to know you are here? Or why you did this?” Curran stared at him. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with any explanation for Nyarl’s weird behavior. Coming into his room disguised as Heinwald, drinking with him, trying to put his hand up his shirt...

“Did you...did you try to see if I was attracted to Heinwald?” It was either that or he was trying to seduce Curran and steal his soul or something. But Heinwald had told Curran that this Nyarl had no intention of stealing any of the castle souls. 

He really hoped his partner was right.

But Nyarlwald muttered sulkily, “You ken our true bearing.”

Figuring out Nyarl’s motive only made things more confusing. “Why the hell would you do--” Suddenly, he remembered something Nyarl just said a moment ago.  _ And attempt at revelation. An anodyne for another. _

He had no idea what anodyne meant. But with the first part, he could make a haphazard guess. “You...does Heinwald have feelings for me?”

Nyarlwald paused. Curran could see the gears turning in his head. And instead of coming up with a convincing lie, he got up and made a run for the door.

“Hey! Get back here!”

Nyarlwald was quicker than Heinwald was. Curran found himself huffing just trying to keep the tail of his coat in sight. “Why--Are--You--Running!” he panted as he chased the dragon through the castle halls, passing quite a few confused people. But since Nyarlwald was a dragon who spent most of his time in the roost, he had to hesitate when he came to a fork in the path, which allowed Curran to make a dive for him. “Gotcha!” he cried triumphantly as they hit the ground together.

“Dissolution! Dissolution! Dissolution!” Nyarlwald literally hissed, flicking his suddenly-forked tongue at Curran’s face.

“Er…?”

Both of them looked up. And because the Goddess had a fucked up sense of humor, Heinwald was standing nearby. “Curran? Nyarlathotep? What are you two doing?”

“How’d you know it was Nyarl?” asked Curran, looking down at Nyarlwald pinned underneath him. He wondered if Nyarl had confided his ability to shapeshift in Heinwald. Because Curran had never fucking realized he could do this. Though maybe Heinwald had just deduced it, considering that the other Nyarl shapeshifted into Lathna...

Heinwald suddenly developed a shifty look on his face at the question. “Never mind that. What is going on?”

“Nyarl is disguised as you.”

“I can see that, yes.”

“He…” Curran trailed off, looking up at Heinwald.

“Surcease!” Nyarlwald hissed, looking a little bit...panicked?

Curran stopped for a moment to consider the situation.

Nyarl had chosen to flee when asked if Heinwald had feelings for him. So presumably he did, or at least Nyarl thought he did. However, Curran had never seen any sort of hint or evidence that Heinwald had any feelings other than friendship towards him. Which either meant that Nyarl was wrong...or that Heinwald was intentionally keeping that information from him.

And...well. From where he was standing--or, lying--he would rather put his money on the former than the latter. He didn’t want to make idiots out of all three of them by assuming Nyarl was right. And if Heinwald did have feelings for him? Unlike his partner, Curran knew how to let other people keep their secrets.

So instead of asking the question burning in his throat of  _ do you have feelings for me because Nyarl sure thinks you do, _ Curran instead shrugged and said, "I dunno why, but he showed up in my room looking like you, and when I tried to ask him why he just started babbling bullshit the way he does."

"We do not undergo the banality of 'babbling,'" Nyarlwald hissed in his face.

"You're offended by that?" Curran grumbled. It was around this time that he realized he was still on top of the dragon wearing his partner's face. He could feel the blood rushing up as he scrambled to his feet. A split second later, he realized he probably shouldn't have displayed his bashfulness so openly with two mega-geniuses standing and laying right near him. He prayed to the Goddess that Hein's stupidity and Nyarl's dragon-ness would kick in and save him from them figuring out why he suddenly got so jumpy. "Uh, anyways, could you talk to him and figure out what he wanted from me?"

"Amusement," Nyarlwald was quick to say, even before Heinwald could ask.

Heinwald laughed. "I believe he was merely attempting to prank you."

It sounded like a lousy excuse to Curran. But if that was the cover story Nyarl was going for, he won't be a dick and poke holes into his alibi. It benefited him, too, because Heinwald might start suspecting Curran knows that Nyarl thinks that--

Shit. Heinwald may or may not have feelings for him.

Time to wrap this up so he could examine that potential for himself. By himself. In his room. Alone. "Okay, Nyarl, you learned your lesson. Don't try that shit again."

“Apologies, ten thousand eons of apologies.” Nyarl muttered. He dipped a low bow and scurried down the hall, away from the two of them. 

“That’s the wrong…!” Curran attempted to call after him. But the dragon had already turned the corner and was out of sight. He sighed and was beginning to wonder if he should attempt to go after it and help it escape the castle when Heinwald started,

“Did Nyarlathotep…”

“Did he what?” asked Curran when Heinwald trailed off. But he thought he had a feeling that he knew what Heinwald was going to ask him.

Heinwald hesitated for a long time. Then he looked down at his feet and shook his head. “No, never mind. I’m afraid I lost track of my thoughts.”

“All right then. Uh.” He didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling so awkward. He smiled at Heinwald, despite the fact that he was still looking at his own feet, and said, “Well, I’ll leave you alone now.”

“What? Ah. Yes, goodbye.”

Curran turned and walked down the hall. As he went, he thought about picking up his wine glass by the bowl. 

He stopped. Turned around. Called out, “Hey, Hein?”

“Hmmm?” Heinwald looked up at the sound of his name.

Curran flashed him a smile. “Y’know, having two of you around wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

And that was definitely a blush creeping up Heinwald’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Kuranoa! Thanks for the prompt! 
> 
> I feel like Curran and Heinwald are both a) too smart b) know each other too well and c) have too many little quirks that are hard to imitate that it's hard for a shapeshifter to fool either of them as the other.


	3. Ray of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young man finds his way to a castle to speak with a man who will apparently give him money to attend college.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T. This chapter is basically about a discussion about a past suicide attempt, so watch out for that.

Ray hiked up through the gates and into the yard. He stopped, bent over with his hands on his knees, to catch his breath.

The castle looked enormous when he viewed it from further down the path. As he walked up the road towards it, it got bigger and bigger but didn’t get any closer. He considered himself a reasonably in-shape person, but that last uphill stretch was brutal. He was tempted to sit down and take a rest, but there were people standing watch on the guard towers and he could feel them looking at him and it made him nervous. He rallied himself and walked up to the massive doors.

He knocked on the door and waited. His heart rate was going crazy, but whether that was from nerves or from the walk he wasn’t quite sure.

The doors opened. A person around his age with blond hair and striking pale green eyes peered out. “Hello. Can I help you?”

“Hello. I'm, ah, looking for a man named…Lord Heinwald?”

The person nodded. “Heinwald?” He said it with a “v” in the middle instead of a “w,” and Ray winced at how stupid me must have sounded. He looked over his shoulder and said, “Alex, do you mind getting Heinwald?” Then he turned around and smiled warmly at Ray. “Do you want to come in and wait for him?"

"Um. Yes, please. It was...quite a walk getting up here."

The man stepped back from the door and allowed Ray in. Ray hesitated for a moment when he noticed there were two other people standing next to the door looking right at him--an intimidating-looking tall man with brown hair and an equally intimidating-looking woman with blonde. But his legs were killing him, so he stepped inside and gratefully took a seat on a chair that was immediately offered to him by a different lady with pink hair.

As soon as he sat down, the tall man suddenly grinned at him. "So...what did he do this time?"

Ray blinked at the sudden, teasing question. He was too befuddled to unravel what the tall man meant by that, so he automatically answered as truthfully as he could. "He, uh, left me some money. To go to college. But...I need a signed and sealed letter from him to access it."

The people standing around him were exchanging quizzical looks. Ray hoped that they didn’t ask him any more questions. But luckily, he was spared by two more people coming down the stairs. The man in front had white hair with black tones underneath and was carrying a book tucked under his arm, while the man following him had blond hair and a scary-looking scar. The man in front’s eyebrows shot up as he came down the stairs, and as soon as he hit the bottom of the stairs he said, "Hello, Rayven. You've grown since I last saw you."

Ray didn’t really know what to say to that. He didn’t realize that this guy--Lord Heinwald? Probably?--would recognize him, let alone know his full name. "I--"

His squeak was immediately overtaken by the scarred man asking, "Who's this?"

Lord Heinwald turned to look at him. "We went to his father's funeral, remember? Three years ago?"

"Ohhh.” Recognition dawned on the scarred man’s face. “Right. Hey, you did grow a lot. Late growth spurt, huh?"

"Um.” Ray decided to go for honesty in this situation. “I’m sorry, I don't really remember you. Either of you.”

The scarred man shrugged. "Understandable. Grief makes fools of us, especially when confronted with so many strangers your loved one knew but you didn't.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of Lord Heinwald. “He’s Heinwald, the guy you’re looking for. I’m his partner, Curran."

Ray felt himself relaxing a little bit. Maybe he was just biased, but he couldn’t help but think that both of the men were much less scary now that he learned they were partners, and quite readily open about it too. In fact, now that he thought about it, the blond and white-haired combo reminded him of his own fathers. He felt a small tug of wistfulness thinking about his dear old Dad, may his soul rest in peace, but he tamped it down to focus on the job at hand. "I...got into university, sir. And you--my father said you left me money…?"

Lord Heinwald crinkled his nose, and Ray had a brief heart attack, wondering if he didn’t leave him any money after all and it was all a massive prank. But then he simply said dismissively, "Don't bother calling me sir, we're all adults here. What did you decide to study?"

"Law, s--mm. Lord Heinwald."

"Wonderful. Good luck with that," he said absently. He searched his own pockets and pulled out a pen and an inkwell. Then he reached over stuck his hands into the pockets of his partner, making the man yelp and try to slap his hands away, which he ignored. Eventually he pulled a piece of paper out from a pouch on the partner’s belt and leaned over, placing the book he was carrying against his thigh as a writing surface, and began to busily write away.

Ray stared at him for a second. The whole foyer was quiet, now, and the awkwardness was suffocating. Then the burning question that had been bothering him ever since he heard of this arrangement reared its insistent head. He cleared his throat. "Um, sorry. Can I ask you...what my fathers did? To make you give me the money? The...scholarship?" That sounded better than just saying “the money.”

Lord Heinwald straightened up and began to fan the paper back and forth in the air to dry the ink. He said, with remarkable calm, "Your fathers saved my life following a suicide attempt many years ago.”

Ray stared at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the four other people who had retreated to the far end of the foyer to wait all whipped their heads up to look at Lord Heinwald. The only people who didn’t look surprised were Lord Heinwald himself and his partner, who was watching him with a stony expression.

He was just beginning to wonder if it would be rude to press for information when Lord Heinwald continued without prompting.

“I had a few failed attempts under my belt by that time. For my last attempt, I jumped from a window.” Lord Heinwald’s partner’s hands tightened into fists, but he continued with that steady, almost bored voice. “Your fathers found me and both healed me and did their best to ensure I would not try again anytime soon. I was quite churlish about it at the time, but their intervention worked. A year or two later I had recovered and decided to repay them. Despite my offers, their only wish was that money would be no obstacle to whatever higher education you decided to pursue."

"I...see."

Lord Heinwald smiled. "I lived with you for a few weeks when you were about eleven. Do you recall? I looked different back then. I had shorter hair."

Now that Lord Heinwald had brought it up, he could actually pretty clearly remember the incident simply because of how unusual it was. He never connected it to his mysterious benefactor until now.

It was way back when they were still living in that small house at the bottom of the hill, before they moved into a small house in a bigger city so Papa could have more clients. They had been taking an evening walk. Papa had convinced Dad to sneak onto the grounds of the fancy abandoned manor on the hill to look at the rose garden, and so the three of them and Ember had slipped through a broken spot in the fence Papa had found on one of his walks. Papa had, as always, run on ahead with Ember in tow. Within a few minutes, Ember was barking his head off, and the two of them raced back around the corner. Papa’s face was white as a sheet as he ran directly up to Dad and whispered into his ear.

Dad’s cheerful expression had immediately dropped. And he said, in the voice he used when he was scolding patients about their eating habits or whatever, “Take Ember and Ray back to the house.” Then, without waiting for a reply, he had run off in the direction Papa had come from.

Papa refused to answer any of Ray’s confused questions, only saying, “Someone’s hurt. Don’t worry, Dad’s taking caring of it.” Ray had accepted it, though he was a little miffed that Papa and Dad didn’t want him looking at an injured person. He had seen blood before, he had seen farmers coming in with broken arms and bite wounds, but for some reason Papa was especially insistent that they go home and Ray go right to bed. But he had obeyed Papa because he seemed upset, and lay awake in his bed, listening to the front door open, then the door to the basement open, then the whispered conversation between Papa and Dad that continued even after he fell asleep.

The next morning, Papa made four servings of breakfast, and Dad had told him that he had a cousin staying over for a little while, that he was sleeping in the basement, and to be very quiet in the house and play outside if he could, please. Ray had thought that something was fishy, but he did not press his luck.

He did sneak down there once or twice during the “cousin’s” month-long stay. Each time he went down there, the basement was dark and the “cousin” appeared to be asleep, lying on his side with his back to the door. About a month later, the “cousin” had disappeared in the middle of the night, and Ray had shelved that incident away along with all the other weird memories of his childhood.

But he spoke about it now, wonder in his voice as he put two and two together. "I remember that. You stayed in the cellar and never turned the lights on. Dad told me you were his cousin."

"Ah, good memory. You were quite young.” Lord Heinwald looked pleased? that he was remembered. “Indeed, I kept the lights off when you were present specifically to discourage you from coming into the basement and speaking to me. And your fathers lied to you because they did not want to explain the notion of suicide watch at such a young age."

“Yeah, that’s…” He trailed off. He wondered if Dad ever intended on telling him his version of what happened. Papa hadn’t, even when Ray had told him he was going on a small trip to get Lord Heinwald’s signature so he could claim his scholarship. He resolved to ask Papa about it when he got back home.

The partner spoke up. “Hey, don’t forget to give him the thing he came all the way out here for.”

“What? Oh.” Out of various pockets Lord Heinwald took out a small ring and an envelope. As he folded up the letter and stuffed it into the envelope, he asked, “Could I borrow your sealing wax?” The partner pulled a stick out of his pouch and handed it over, grumbling,

“You should’ve asked nicely for the paper, too.”

Lord Heinwald ignored him and sealed up the envelope with the red wax. Then he walked over and offered it to Ray, who took it with both hands. “Best of luck for your future endeavors.”

The partner grinned and said, “And, hey, if you ever decide you want to become an investigator, inquisitor, or an adventurer, look us up again. I owe your fathers big time.”

Lord Heinwald gave him a puzzled look. “Why? They did nothing for you.”

“Hey, don’t call yourself nothing.” The partner punched him lightly on the shoulder. “If they didn’t intervene, then I would’ve never met you.”

“Aren’t you always saying that you wish you had never met me? Perhaps you would be better off if his parents had left me to die.”

“That’s when you’re being a little bitch, like now. You’re pretty useful...sometimes.”

“Only sometimes? Now that is an insult.”

Ray couldn’t help but smile at the two men. A wave of fondness overcame him for these two strangers as their bickering brought back memories of Dad and Papa complaining at each other. These two men had the same simmering level of mostly-joking heat and the same fondness buried deep in their eyes that Dad and Papa had whenever they argued. It was those good memories that compelled him to ask, “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been together?”

Lord Heinwald looked at his partner, who was slowly turning red. “Almost five years now?”

“We...we aren’t together.”

Now Lord Heinwald looked confused. “Don’t be an idiot, Curran.”

“ _ You _ don’t be an idiot. He thinks that we’re-- we’re together, Heinwald. That we’re dating.”

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so?”

“I did! Ugh, you’re unbelievable.” The partner--Curran, Lord Heinwald finally said his name again, and this time Ray tried to commit it to memory--turned away from him, crossing his arms as he went. His blush hadn’t faded. “Yeah, I meant, like, work partners. We’re just friends. Nothing more.”

Lord Heinwald was staring at the side of his face. He murmured, “Indeed. My apologies if we...misled you.”

Okay, this was getting kinda sad. Lord Heinwald’s blank expression was a bit tight around the edges, and Curran was not looking in his direction at all. And, yeah, Ray was perpetually single, but while Dad was a healer, Papa still worked as an excellent and respected matchmaker, and he had picked up how to read expressions and manage emotions pretty well. And those two were definitely pining for each other, in Ray’s non-professional opinion. As much as he wanted to stay and smush their faces together and yell  _ YOU LOVE EACH OTHER! DON’T WAIT! _ , he still didn’t know these two people...at all, actually. So he reluctantly lowered his head and mumbled, “Er...sorry for assuming. Um, thanks for the letter, and thanks for the money, and, uh, if I want to be...any of those things you mentioned, I’ll definitely stop by. Thanks.”

“I’ll escort you out.” Both Lord Heinwald and Curran jumped, having apparently forgotten about the four people--the pink-haired lady, the blonde-haired lady, the blond-haired man, and the brown-haired man--standing far away enough to be polite but close enough to eavesdrop. The tall brown-haired man had spoken up, and he was approaching Ray with a glint in his eyes that told him that he shouldn’t try and refuse.

Ray nodded. “Thanks. Uh, good-bye.”

“Yes. Goodbye,” said Lord Heinwald.

“Yeah,” mumbled his partner. Not partner. Work partner. Future partner?

As soon as he had followed the tall man out the door, the tall man whirled around and asked, a triumphant look on his face, “Those two totally act like a married couple, right?”

Ray blinked at the unexpected burst of enthusiasm. “Um, yeah. They remind me of my fathers.” He added, “And I’d know, because my papa is a matchmaker.”

The tall man  _ punched _ the air. “Woo-hoo! I was right! Everyone was like ‘uh, you’re crazy, ran, they’re just friends, don’t intervene with their lives,’ but I’m RIGHT.”

Ray couldn’t help but be swept up in this man’s enthusiasm. “Well, if they behaved like a couple, it would be one thing. People can be that close and not be romantically interested. But the way they reacted when I asked them how long they’ve been together? There’s definitely something there.” He hesitated for a split second, then added, “...And I think you should intervene. They seem...pretty hopeless.”

“Thank you!” the large man enthused. He turned around and yelled at the direction of the castle, “IN YOUR FACE!”

Ray just stood there and watched this man revel in his validation. Then he turned around and yelled at Ray, “Thanks, kiddo! Now, don’t you worry, old Ranzal will make sure those two crazy kids get their act together and realize they’re in love!”

“Good luck with that,” Ray told him. “Um, if that’s all, I can make my own way back home.”

“Oh? You sure you don’t want to get escorted back?”

“I’ll be fine,” Ray assured him. And the man nodded, grinning at him. 

“Well, thanks for stopping by. Good luck with your life, kid.”

“Thanks, um, bye.”

Ray turned around and walked away from the castle, headed back home with the letter Lord Heinwald gave him safely stowed into his pouch.

As he walked down the hill, he thought of the dark basement and of the depressed cousin. He thought of Lord Heinwald, walking down the stairs with his partner close behind. And he hoped that he would soon be living his best life, with that man by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about my random headcanon that, for about a year and a half after he turned 18, Heinwald went through a major belated depressive episode. It didn't occur immediately after the deaths of his family, because he was struggling with dealing with the estate and cleaning up the mess his father left, but once he turned 18 he got rid of all of the servants in the house and entered a very depressed state.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have something you want to read, I will also take prompts from the comments on this series!


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